<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ghost Herd by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656984">Ghost Herd</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silver Brumby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Rehash, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:07:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff"><p>Old prompt fill, pretty much a canon rehash.</p></div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghost Herd</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kunama trotted beside Thowra, looking about her with bright curious eyes. In the thick of winter she was safer, for the ghostly herd was muffled from man and horse alike and could roam in peace through the snow. He taught his daughter how to hide her creamy coat in the merest drift of snow, to cross a half-frozen creek and leave no mark, to blend spirit-like into the twilight. Grass was scarcer than ever, though, and Thowra worried most about his lovely silver filly and the two dun-coloured foals, who would weaken if their mothers could not produce enough milk.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Old prompt fill, pretty much a canon rehash.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>